


blue ocean floor

by deanwinchesterissaved



Series: Drabble boys [9]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment
Genre: Feelings Realization, M/M, Near Drowning, Nightmares, light houses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23434162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanwinchesterissaved/pseuds/deanwinchesterissaved
Summary: Shane has a nightmare.In fact, he's still having it. It's just a dream, you wake up when you die in a dream.Right?
Relationships: Ryan Bergara & Shane Madej, Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Series: Drabble boys [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1613827
Comments: 7
Kudos: 123





	blue ocean floor

**Author's Note:**

> Anon prompt: youre taking prompts yeah? lets spin it a bit. shane has a nightmare.
> 
> Title comes from Blue Ocean Floor cover by Aaron Richards and October child

Shane has a nightmare. 

In fact, he's still having it, that's the only explanation he can face right now, the only reason that all that he had ever lived by was getting destroyed before his eyes. 

Shane would like to think that he's passable as a person in general, he pays his rent, feeds his cat, and produces half-decent content that makes some people happier in a different corner of the world. 

And sure he's smoked once or twice and snagged the stray 200 songs and movies off sketchy websites, but if the almighty really existed, Shane supposed those weren't the greatest crimes humanity has ever cooked up. 

He likes history, he would know. 

Which brings him back to the fact that he must be having a nightmare, now, right this second. 

He swings his hands out in front of him, but there's only water, here and everywhere. There's no light in the ocean nights, after all. 

His eyes sting, a strangely visceral sensation for a dream, Shane thinks. The water is so present around him, pushing him around in their dark depths and pressing in on the air in his lungs, he's not going to last very long, but maybe he's just worrying too much. It's just a dream, you wake up when you die in a dream. 

Right?

Shane's cold, he's never felt this cold in his life, not even when he had laid in the snow for hours with his brother, the two of them half freezing to death in their thick winter coats, relishing in the soft crunch of the white softness beneath their bodies. 

The water is soft too, it smoothes over his exposed arms and legs in a caress, shapes loom in his sight. Seeing underwater is never as clear as the movies would have you believe, and this is very much different from lazy dips into Lake Michigan. 

Shane's never learned to lucid dream, he's watched tutorials and tried a couple of times out of curiosity, but it's one of those things that he's never been able to accomplish. And he's fine with that, really. He lives his life with an open mind, trying things that come his way and if they don't stick, well, that's not a problem. 

Except it's a problem now, because he really should be waking up. Drowning does not sound like a good experience, even in a dream. 

What had be been doing before? He quizzes himself, maybe bringing in real life will crack the spell. 

They had been on a shoot, him and Ryan, at the lighthouse way out in the bay, a lone structure on a piece of jagged rock isolated from everything else. They had shot their investigation and settled down for the night, their sleeping bags set up in the space side by side, the crew sailing back to shore on the little dinghy.

His chest hurts, an urgency engulfing him to get air, to breathe-

Don't be an idiot, he thinks, it's clearly against his objective to start breathing water. 

Ryan had turned to face him, he remembers, forcing his brain to pick out every single detail, to bring him one step closer to awareness, to waking. Ryan had turned to him, the fabric of his sleeping bag crinkling in the silence. 

“Maybe death is just the next life, you know, just an inch away." Ryan had murmured, voice heavy in a way that Shane never wants to hear it. He wants to comfort him, to pull Ryan close and tell him things are going to work out, but he has a feeling Ryan won't rest until he gets Shane's response. 

It's getting difficult to move his limbs, he almost feels drunk. 

“Or, maybe it’s just a big sleep, lights out. Done and done.” He had said, not awake enough to consider the other possibility, it would be lying anyway, and Shane didn't want to do that. 

Ryan was quiet after that. 

Now, in the water, Shane wonders what would have happened if he had agreed. If he had reached out and done something about the forlorn look on Ryan's face. 

It occurs to Shane that this might not be a dream. 

He beats at the water, the cold pressing into every inch of his skin, his hands unable to gain traction in the toiling dark. 

Underwater he screams, but the silence eats up the sound. 

And now he doesn't even have air in his lungs. 

Hands curl around his wrists, but he's already too numb to care. 

  
  
  


"Shane? God damn it wake up." 

one Mississippi, two Mississippi

Ryan doesn't let up on the steady rhythm he built up, using his whole body to press down again and again into Shane's chest. The wind whips at their wet clothes, carving at Ryan's exposed skin with knives. 

He bends down and blows in Shane's mouth, trying to remember all of the little movements that the medics had taught him years ago. Shane's lips are ice cold against his own. 

"No you come back, right now, come on Shane, breathe." Chest compressions, chest compressions, five Mississippi, six Mississippi

The next breath he pushes into Shane's mouth, the man coughs, water gurgling out in streams. 

"Oh-oh Shane, I've got you, come on." Ryan pulls Shane up, tipping him to the side and watches him take hacking breaths, clutching at Ryan's shoulder like he might slip away. 

He almost did, Ryan thinks with a shiver. 

"Rya-n?" Shane's voice is raw, and when Ryan looks at him, a little annoyance sparks amidst the shaky relief. 

"Why didn't you fucking tell me you sleep walk?" He demands, feeling something twist inside him when Shane flinches. 

"I-I didn't know."

"Just-" Ryan starts, wiping hot lines off his cold cheeks, pulling the other man against his chest, mind a little fuzzy and filter a little loose. "Don't do that to me again, please, I can't live without you."

"I'm sorry, Ry." There's something different in Shane's voice, a newfound weight. Maybe nearly drowning made him see some sense, and he'll always agree with Ryan about the supernatural from now on. Is that really too much to ask?

And as they trudge, unsteady and slipping, into the comfort of stone walls against the hard wind, they hold hands, and hold the sea to witness the shift between them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come poke around my [ Tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/deathfrisbeeinthetardis) and send prompts if you're so inclined :D


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